Therefore, you don't see me
by Jacinda
Summary: Post Nesting Dolls: following the scenes when Sara tells Grissom about her family. Sara Angst - Cast friendships. (PG13 for language and mention of suicide) - FIN
1. Sara's POV: The Letter

He doesn't have the right to ask those things of me in my own home. He doesn't have the right to sit before me contemplating whether or not to touch me as I cry for sins committed lifetimes ago. He doesn't have the right to make me crumble before him, so he can take the credit for slowly rebuilding whatever he can salvage of me.

He's been gone for well over two hours. I'm still sitting in my chair crying about a man that tortured my mother for years . . . for years before she ended it all. The color of blood against white walls; the sound of her rage . . . it stayed with me. The impressions that night made will never leave me. I'm a product of those early relationships . . . those early sins. I wonder if she would still love me when I tell her I'm angry as hell at her . . . at him.

Grissom must think I'm crazy for wondering if there is a 'murder' gene. The only person that I am really trying to kill is myself. I rationalize that makes me a murderer; it makes me an abuser no different from my father. The apple never does fall far from the tree.

It's the middle of the afternoon. I would normally be awake preparing for another night at work. I would normally be listening to the police scanner in an attempt to remember that I am fighting with the good guys, not against them. It doesn't always work. I fight against Catherine and Grissom. I think I've begun to wage a war against Eckley. The problem is that I don't care. I really don't give a damn about them anymore.

They don't see it. They don't see the scars because my mother hid them so well. They don't see how I try to gain approval from any authority figure that I can find just because I wish my father loved me. They don't see it; therefore, they don't see me.

I've always wished my father was another man. I've always wished that I could have brought boyfriends home to a place with some semblance of normalcy. I wish that someday my father could walk me down the aisle; I wish my mother could be sitting in the front pew watching her only daughter get married. It's never going to happen. The fairytale ended way before it ever began.

I was writing a crude suicide letter when Grissom interrupted me. I shuffled papers around so he would think that I was doing my bills or some other normal household chore. I always begin to write the same letter, but I never finish. I never finish because I've never known who to address the letter to. I don't have a father. My mother doesn't even know me anymore. God only knows where my brother is. I never knew my grandparents. There is no one to claim my body. There is no one to pack up my personal things.

I've always thought of packing up my apartment before . . . I say good-bye. I don't really know who I'm saying good-bye to anymore. The nightshift doesn't exist anymore. The 'swing shift' doesn't see us much anymore. They don't make an attempt to see us much anymore. I don't know if I'm even obligated to say good-bye to them. Sophia . . . I don't know Sophia. I shouldn't say good-bye to her if I've never said hello. Greg . . . I should say good-bye to him.

I pull the crude letter out again. I don't know what to do with it. Saving it makes me crazy, and throwing it out runs the risk of someone finding it. I might as well wear it as my scarlet letter. It defines me as a murderer and an abuser.

There's knocking at the door. I figure it's probably Grissom so I check the peephole first. I don't want to talk to Grissom anymore. I realize it's stupid to think it's Grissom; he's probably still at work. He's probably still happy with his lonely, hermetic life. I'm not; I'm so damn sick of being alone.

"Sara, it's Greg. Open up please," Greg says as he begins to pound on the door. I open the door for him. He doesn't ask me invasive questions. He doesn't force me to tell him my secrets. He just holds me until I hand him the letter and ask him to please help me.


	2. Greg's POV: Must Get Out

Author's Note: Nesting Dolls, while it was an excellent episode, left a little bit of a bad taste in my mouth. It just showed how the writers are writing the swing shift to be unaffected, cold, emotionless . . . . (all the qualities that Catherine seems to embody). I decided to write them like that. While I love Nicky and Warrick, Thursday night I felt like the writers wrote those characters in a way that portrayed them letting Sara down big time. It kind of cheapened all the prior seasons - I miss having the characters stand up for each other . . . and God forbid, care about each other.

Hope you like this chapter. Sorry for the long rant :)

Jac

* * *

Greg's POV:

I was shocked that Catherine didn't want to help Sara. I was shocked, but I wasn't necessarily surprised. After Eddie was murdered . . . after Catherine didn't get the conviction she desired, Catherine pushed Sara away. Catherine had vocally denounced Sara's abilities as a CSI. Catherine was actually very savvy; she never said anything to Sara's face. Sara must have heard the rumors, but if she did, she didn't say anything to Catherine or anyone else.

I heard what Sara said about Catherine and Eckley. Everyone pretended that it wasn't the truth. Everyone pretended that Catherine didn't use her sexuality to get what she wanted. Everyone pretended that Eckley was some sort of superhero CSI. Everyone pretended that all the happenings in the lab were completely normal. I couldn't pretend as well as they all did.

Nick said that this was to be expected from Sara. He said that Sara had teetered on that line between dedicated and self-destructive for too long. Warrick just nodded and continued to work on his case. When I asked if they ever thought Sara needed help, the room fell silent. I was prepared to yell at them for pretending to care for so many years. They had just sat by idly waiting for Sara to fall apart. I didn't yell. Catherine came into the room and informed me that I wasn't to be speaking of Sara anymore. Sara was fired. Catherine seemed very satisfied with the outcome. Nick and Warrick didn't look like they expected anything different. The swing shift had become so unaffected by what happened with the other shifts. It was as if they had somehow become stuck in their own little world forgetting that they were once close to Sara . . . close to Grissom . . . close to me. They acted as if those years had just melted away as soon as Catherine took over their shift.

I told Grissom that I was sick. Grissom told me to go home. He seemed preoccupied as he looked at all the butterfly specimens that he had collected. He examined them in a way that he never examined Sara. Grissom was much more thoughtful and intuitive towards his bugs than he ever could be towards his coworkers.

I stood on Sara's doorstep impatiently waiting for her to answer the doorbell. I began pounding on her door the minute that I began to realize that Sara could have easily self-destructed this morning. Sara opened the door. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her cheeks were wet. She looked at me and continued with her meltdown.

I pulled her into my arms. I closed the door to her apartment. We stood in front of the door for fifteen minutes before she pulled away from me. She handed me a piece of paper. I initially thought it might be her resignation or her notice of termination. It was a letter.

_I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I see my mother in the eyes of all the beaten women. I see my father in the eyes of men that are something much less than saintly. I was wrong to think that I could turn my life around and leave the past somewhere back in Tamales Bay. I was wrong to think that I could be appreciated for something more than my ability to apply chemistry and physics to evidence. I'm a product of a place that has so severely stunted me emotionally. I don't want to live like this anymore._

My hand trembled as I read her words. She softly asked me to please help her. I didn't know what Sara expected from me. I didn't know exactly how to make her better, but I didn't want to sit idly like all the others. Sara just wanted to be loved, and we had all let her down. She cared about us so much that she would fight to death for us, but Nick, Warrick, and Catherine didn't mind watching her lay down and die.

"Let's get you away from here," I said without thinking.

"Where are we going?" Sara asked in a childlike voice. Her voice transformed into something delicate and fragile. It was a voice that I never heard come out of her before.

"I don't know . . . we have time to decide, don't we?" I asked.

"Won't you lose your job?" Sara asked. I was touched by her ability to be concerned for my welfare when she was fading away.

"The job doesn't matter, Sara. It's just a job," I replied as I sat next to her on the couch.

"Where would you want to go?" Sara asked as if she was considering my spur of the moment desire to take her away from all this misery. Sara looked relieved to not have to make any more decisions. She looked content having me here.

"Anywhere but here," I replied.

"I want to see my mother," Sara replied.

We sat on her couch for hours before I called Grissom to tell him that I needed to take some time off. I told him that Papa Olaf had passed on. It wasn't too far from the truth. Papa Olaf had passed on last year. I didn't go home to watch him die. Some things were so much sweeter when you held on to the memories of when times were good. It was too destructive to hold on to the memories of the bad times.

Grissom told me to take all the time I needed. He told me to make sure that I took good care of Sara.


	3. Nick's POV: Too Close

A/N: I think this is the first time that I'm writing a story where Catherine is the bad guy (after the last few episodes I starting to believe that Catherine might actually be one of the devil's henchmen). This is really the first time when Grissom isn't the bad guy :) Hope you all like the update - Jac

Nick's POV:

They disappeared for a week. We all assumed that Sara had sat at home listening to her police scanner and Greg spent the week with his family. There was no reason for me to believe anything different was going on. I wouldn't have thought twice unless I hadn't seen Greg and Sara in the hallway talking and laughing. They were both sunburned. They stood a little too close to each other. Sara looked a little too happy; Greg looked a little too happy to be with Sara.

I was worried about Greg getting too close to Sara. Sara was becoming dangerous. Catherine was convinced that Sara was going to kill herself or someone else at a scene. Catherine made her opinion known to anyone that would listen. I had heard her rhetoric so many times that I began to believe that Sara really was a danger. I had begun to forget that I used to be her friend; I had begun to forget that I used to be jealous of how good of a CSI Sara used to be or still was. I didn't want Greg to fall into whatever trap Sara had found herself in.

"Hey, Greggo. I'm sorry to hear about Papa Olaf," I said as I struggled to catch up to Greg as he parted from Sara.

"Umm . . . I have some plant DNA to run," Greg said as he struggled to avoid me.

"Greg, what's going on with you and Sara?" I asked as I followed him into the DNA lab.

"I don't see why you would care," Greg snapped as he put on a lab coat and latex gloves.

"You need to be careful . . . Sara's a loose cannon," I said. I found myself repeating the words I heard Eckley use to classify Sara. Catherine had also latched on to that catch phrase.

"I think you need to shut the hell up," Greg snapped as he began to process the plant matter in the evidence bag.

"Whoa, what was that?" I asked taken back that Greg would ever talk to me that way.

"I think I hear Catherine calling you. You should really start thinking about hanging with _your_ shift," Greg hissed as he looked up from his work. There was a cold look in his eyes. Greg looked as if he really had no interest in talking to me anymore. He might have meant what he said to me.

I walked away without another word. I wasn't very sure what to make of my conversation with Greg. He had made it clear that the night shift no longer saw the swing shift as their comrades. The dividing lines were extremely clear. I had noticed the separation weeks ago. Grissom no longer asked me how my cases were going. Greg stopped making small talk with me. Sara was able to look right through me. Maybe it hurt the most that I heard stories about Sophia, Sara, and Greg going out to a night club together. Times were changing.

Sara was talking to Sophia in the hallway. The interaction didn't seem to go easy, but Sara was never easy to talk to. I had heard rumors that Sophia and Grissom were intimately involved. I wondered if that was what was making Sara a little bit crazy. Catherine said that it might have been something to do with the abuse case last week, but Catherine also used a variety of choice words to characterize what she felt about Sara . . . none of them nice.

"Ladies," I said as I approached them. Sophia and Sara looked at each other as if I had interrupted something.

"Sara, I'm going to go see how the DNA is coming along," Sophia said as she walked away from us.

"I'll go see what Hodges has going on," Sara said as Sophia hurried away. She leaned up against the wall and prepared for whatever I was going to say.

"What's going on with you?" I asked. Sara was always really straight to the point. I figured that was probably the only way to talk to Sara.

"You know what. It's really none of your business," Sara said as she straightened up. She crossed her arms across her chest.

"You're changing, Sara. You're dangerous," I said as I began to grow more and more frustrated with the way the entire nightshift blew me off.

"Well, maybe you should be glad that you aren't working with me anymore," Sara snapped in the same tone Greg had only minutes earlier.

"It's not about you. It's about what you are doing to our lab," I said.

"You people and your damn lab. You are turning into Catherine . . . you miss the people for the lab," Sara said with her voice raised slightly.

"Is something going on here?" Grissom said as he approached us.

"Yah, could you tell swing shift to leave me alone so I can get some work done?" Sara asked as she turned on her heal and walked away.

"Nick, what's going on?" Grissom asked.

"I just wanted to know what was going on with Sara," I replied. Maybe I had attacked Sara before I got to the part where I was going to ask if she was okay.

"If Catherine sent you in as a spy, I don't appreciate it," Grissom said. I was a little hurt that he immediately assumed the worst, but I could understand. He always tried to protect Sara. He used to try to protect me.

"Catherine didn't send me," I replied. I didn't know what else to say to the man that used to be my mentor.

"The situation with Sara has been handled. The details aren't the business of the swing shift," Grissom said as he walked away. It made it very clear that swing shift had been alienated from the nightshift. I wasn't sure if this was something night shift had done or if this was something Catherine had done. Catherine had always tried to step out from Grissom's shadow. I wondered if she was making me become something that I wasn't. I wondered if Catherine was trying to make me forget just how much I like working nightshift with the rest of the team.

I wondered when everything had gone wrong.


	4. Warrick's POV: A New Broom

Warrick's POV:

Nick talked me into going out to a late breakfast this morning at the diner that we used to go to. We hadn't set foot in the tiny diner since the day that Nick and I were 'reassigned' to swing shift. I'll never forget the way Grissom looked that day. The disappointment was apparent in his eyes. I think he knew what the future would hold. I think he knew that swing and nights were like ships in the night; we had started traveling in opposite directions. I think it might have worked out just as Catherine had planned.

Nick and I sat at the booth we always sat at. We waited to them to file in for breakfast. I was nervous; I'm sure that it didn't show. People had always accused me of being too calm and too put together. Nick certainly looked so much more nervous than I did. He drummed his fingers on the table. Nick had been a little fidgety since he suggested that we try to hook with nights. He suggested that we try to rebuild some of the bridges that we had inadvertently burned along the way.

Catherine wouldn't approve. For some reason she believed that the old nightshift was somehow stronger divided. She had slowly become another person, or the vindictive, angry part of her personality was becoming more and more apparent. I knew that because I had been severely burnt by her new found attitude when I tried to build a personal relationship with her. She was becoming a very wicked woman.

The four of them walked past us without a second look. I had never felt like I didn't exist before. I found myself wondering when they started forgetting how good it used to be, but Grissom never did hold on to the past.

"Should we . . . ?" Nick asked. I think he was wondering when the significance of this particular booth had faded into days that were so different than the climate we currently lived in.

"No, man. I think it's over," I replied.

"What if Sara needs us?" Nick asked. He strained his neck to see where the nightshift was sitting. I turned around. They looked happy. Sara looked like maybe Greg had been able to heal whatever it was that plagued her for so many years. I guess I wasn't surprised that Greg could heal her. He had never given up on Sara. I think we might have begun to give up on Sara sometime before the split even happened. Greg had been faithful. Greg had been there when Sara needed him. Sara had always been there for us, but I think we let her fall to the wayside months ago.

"I don't think she needs us anymore," I said as I watched the four of them talk and laugh. Sara didn't even seem to mind that Grissom and Sophia sat close to each other. Sara didn't seem to mind that Grissom occasionally held Sophia's gaze a little longer than he held Sara's. Sara laughed with them like I don't think I ever remember hearing Sara laugh. Greg seemed relaxed. He looked so comfortable in his own skin. Greg looked like a CSI. I should have been proud, but I was sad.

"So it's all over just like that?" Nick asked. He outwardly sounded like he was feeling the same things that I held inside.

"She's happy, Nick. Greg takes good care of her," I replied.

"What do you think changed?" Nick asked. Sara had essentially become a different person within a week.

"I think she put some old demons to rest," I replied. It was bittersweet to see Sara healed. It was down right bitter to see how a British blonde could so easily replace Nick and me. My grandmother always said 'a new broom sweeps clean.' The new nightshift had swept Sara clean of all that threatened to tear her apart.


	5. Grissom's POV: Sara

Grissom's POV:

She laughed with us this morning at breakfast; I had a hard time recalling the last time I heard Sara laugh. I had heard her laugh, but what was once joyful had turned to a cold, sardonic chuckle that send chills down my spine.

Sara came into my office this morning. It was her first day back from her suspension. I didn't even need to ask her if she was okay. Sara began talking before I could even open my mouth.

"_Greg took me to see my mother. I didn't even recognize her when the guard brought her into the visitor's area. She doesn't look like the menace to society that everyone wanted to believe she was. Laura has become this quiet, rumpled created that doesn't resemble the Bohemian goddess that I remember her being," Sara said. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to continue with her story._

"_I told her that I needed to forgive her. Laura nodded . . . I don't think she even realized that I was mad at her. I told her that I was so damn angry at her for killing my father. I told her that I was mad that I had to spend my teenage years in a foster home. I told her that I was pissed that I hadn't seen my brother since we were taken to different foster homes. Laura just nodded and said that she was sorry. I told her about how I couldn't let anyone love . . . that I can't love anyone else. I'm afraid that I'll become her," Sara recounted. I just sat in my chair in awe that Sara was able to open up to me. I didn't think Sara would ever make herself vulnerable again . . . especially after Debbie Marlin. _

"_Laura said that I wasn't like her . . . I wasn't anything like my father. She said that she could never figure out how I became so self-confident and so smart. Laura said that my brother and I were so much stronger than she would ever be. She told me why she killed my father. Laura said that he threatened to beat me. Laura said that he had hit my brother earlier that afternoon while I was playing at a friend's house. He had raped my mother after he smoked a bag of dope," Sara said. Her eyes were glazed over. She was didn't look angry. Sara looked sad; she had so many reasons to feel sad._

"_Laura said that she didn't want Randy to touch her children. She didn't know what else to do after she saw him hit my brother. Laura said she didn't realize that she was stabbing him until he was already dead. That's when I got home and began screaming at her to stop," Sara replied, "She probably saved my life and my brother's life. I called an attorney. Laura can probably get a reduced sentence because of battered wife syndrome."_

"_Sara," I began. I didn't know what I was going to say._

"_Grissom, I hated Laura because she loved me. I didn't know that she loved me. I thought that she was just a selfish bitch. I didn't know that she sacrificed herself for her children," Sara said as a solitary tear fell down her face._

"_Do you need anymore time off from work?" I asked._

"_I might try to fly out there if the appeal goes to court. Grissom, thank you for only suspending me. Thank you for letting Greg take some time off. I'm going to be okay now. I'm going to prove that to Eckley and Catherine," Sara said as a smile slowly spread across her face. It was the first time in years that I was certain that Sara would be okay. I was certain that this wasn't the same lip-service that I had grown accustom to hearing from her. I almost laughed at the way Sara had spit out Catherine's name as if it was toxic. Sara was back._

"Grissom, are you still here?" Sophia asked as she jabbed me in the side with her elbow.

"Sorry, thinking about something," I replied. I blushed. I knew that my excuse sounded nothing less than lame.

"Our order is up. Greg can carry only two plates," Sophia said with a smirk.

"Okay, ladies, you sit down and relax. Greg and I will make sure that you don't have to move a muscle to get your breakfast," I said. I was rarely a funny man, but Sophia and Sara seemed to think my comment was hilarious. They laughed. It was nice to hear Sara laugh like she used to.

"That's more like it, Grissom," Sara said as I got up and followed Greg to the counter. I knew that I wouldn't only be serving them their breakfast. I would probably be buying too.

I saw Nick and Warrick sitting in the booth that I couldn't go near anymore. I didn't have any idea as to what to say to them. I had accused Nick of being Catherine's spy. That was the first time that I treated Nick like he was something other than a member of my team. I blamed Catherine. She had drawn the lines the minute she started the ball rolling with Eckley. I had heard rumors that Catherine said that I wasn't fit to manage a shift. I chalked it up to just being a rumor, but it was Archie that told me. Archie had this look of pity in his eyes. It was only then that I began to believe that maybe Catherine was playing shrewd politics for her benefit, not the benefit of the lab.

"Nick, Warrick," I said with a nod of my head. They both looked down at the table. "There's plenty of room at our table. You could join us for breakfast."

"Grissom, there's still two plates at the counter . . . yours and Sophia's," Greg said as he passed by me with two large plates. If he saw Nick and Warrick, he didn't say anything. I knew it was because he was protecting Sara. I heard what he said to Nick this afternoon in the DNA lab. I didn't expect Greg to say anything different. I hadn't expected Nick to spout off some bullshit line about Sara being dangerous and a loose cannon. Greg was a good kid; in a lot of ways he was the core of my team. I knew that I could count on him. I knew that no matter what Greg would always have my back.

"Nick, Warrick, come have breakfast with us," I said as I walked away.

They didn't join us at our table until I had come back and sat down. It didn't feel like what was old was reunited. It felt uncomfortable. I hadn't realized just how big of a rift there was between nights and swing. I wondered when it would all stop.


	6. Catherine's POV: My Daughter

Catherine's POV:

I lived in his shadow for as long as I could remember. It was always Dr. Grissom and Ms. or Mrs. Willows. I never commanded the respect that Gil did. He was the brilliant thinker . . . master of the unconventional experiment. I was more content walking the streets and interviewing suspects for answers. I knew that I didn't have the science savvy that Grissom did, but I had political savvy that Gil could only dream of.

The minute Eckley said that I would be manager of swing shift, I was pissed. I wanted days; I had vocally stated that I wanted day shift. I wanted to be home for some part of my daughter's life. Swing shift was a euphemism for 'doesn't work days, doesn't work nights, kind of picks up what the other shifts don't have time for.' It meant long hours and crappy cases.

I rarely saw Lindsey anymore. I often worked from five in the evening until five in the morning. My extra hours weren't because I was working on a hot case; my extra hours stemmed from a ridiculous amount of paperwork. It meant that I only saw Lindsey for fifteen minutes in the morning before she caught the bus to school. The baby-sitter did all the real work; she made sure Lindsey did her homework . . . she carted Lindsey from violin practice to play practice. Someone else was raising my daughter.

I was pissed at everyone around me. I took out my anger on everyone around me. Well, I took out a lot of my anger on Sara and Grissom. Sara took me on full force; I knew that she wouldn't back down from a fight. Sara never did. If Eckley hadn't been witness to the whole debacle, I probably would have let the situation go. I was a wise woman; I knew that everything Sara said had been true.

Grissom was much more passive-aggressive in his approach to me. He made it clear that I should keep my nose out of his business; Gil also made it clear that there needed to be a separation between swing and nights. He had told me that he would no longer 'loan' his CSIs to my shift. Gil had rejected my requests the last five times I had asked. I ended up asking days; they just laughed at me. Days was notorious for not getting along with anyone, but themselves. I always ended up working late.

My exhaustion and anger came out in the most subtle of ways; I would talk about Sara behind her back. I had warned Nick and Warrick that they weren't to be on a scene with her. I think I actually called Sara 'a mad woman with a gun.' I had told Eckley that he needed to revise Grissom's decision about Sara. I had told Eckley that Grissom might not be fit to continue to manage a shift. I had said all these things in anger. I'm not sure if I really meant them. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.

Three months ago, I would have struggled to find out what was bothering Sara. Three months ago, I would have helped Greg help Sara. That was what we used to do; we used to take care of each other despite the consequences. I missed that so much.

I had burnt bridges that I didn't intend to. Becoming Eckley's right hand woman was never in the master plan, but I find myself playing politics in an attempt to steal the day shift away from its current manager. I tell myself that it's all for Lindsey. It's all for the little girl that's becoming a young woman that I no longer know or understand. It's about trying to give my daughter a family. It's about trying to curb the violent behavior that Lindsey had perpetuated after Eddie's death. I had reasons for all my actions.

I didn't realize that Nick and Warrick would get caught up in my politics. I didn't realize that Sara, Greg, and Sophia would be so quick to alienate Nick and Warrick from the friends that they used to have. I didn't think I would cause a divide the size of the Grand Canyon. My mother always said that it was 'Catherine against the world.' I never disappointed my mother.

I sat at my desk. There was a mountain of paperwork to my left and a stack of requisition slips to my right. My daughter had left for the school bus fifteen minutes earlier. She left without saying good-bye to me, without telling me what to pack in her lunch, without telling me where she was going after school. It made my heart break while making my blood boil.

I needed to make something change.


	7. Nick's POV: The Ignorant Ones

Nick's POV:

We didn't dare move from our table until Grissom walked past us with his plate and Sophia's plate. We followed him silently. The other three looked like they were having fun. They were laughing about something. The joke must have been something about Greg because he was turning shades of red that were unnatural on a human being.

They quieted the minute they saw us approach the table. It was so much more dramatic than I had imaged it being. The silence was deafening. The silence made me want to turn and run. Maybe some things were just meant to live in the past.

We sat at the end of the table next to Grissom. He was the only member of the nightshift that was remotely relaxed. Even Sophia seemed to straighten up a little bit in response to the tense looks on the faces of Greg and Sara. Sara nervously wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans; Greg handed her a napkin and whispered something to her that brought a small smile to her lips.

"I heard Doc autopsied a bear for you," Sophia commented. It sounded a lot snarkier than I'm sure she outwardly meant for it to sound.

"We needed the bullet in the bear for analysis," Warrick replied a little too quickly.

"I heard it was something about a staged hunt," Grissom replied. Greg rolled his eyes. Sara didn't look like she was paying attention at all.

"A zoo-keeper staged the sale of a bear, so he could set up a canned hunt. The bear was drugged so the hunter would kill the bear for sure. The hunter thought the bear was dead, but the bear was just stunned. The bear mauled him," I explained in an attempt to make the case sound a little less like 'Dr. Doolittle.'

"Interesting," Greg said as he pushed the eggs around on his plate. He was obviously in no mood to talk me or Warrick.

"Okay. This has got to stop," Grissom said. He set his fork down. "You guys used to work together. I may not agree with everything that Catherine has been saying, but it isn't Nick or Warrick's fault."

"So you mean that it's okay for Nick to walk around attacking Sara the same way Catherine does?" Greg replied challenging Grissom.

"No, that's not okay. It's not okay for you three to treat them with complete disregard either," Grissom said growing more frustrated by the second. This was the first time that I saw Grissom begin to lose his cool.

"Grissom, I have to get going. I'm tired," Sara said as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She pulled out some cash and put it on the table. Sara stood up and began to walk away.

"Sara, if it means anything . . . I'm sorry," I said before I realized that I was even talking.

"Sorry for what? Looking at me like I'm a psycho, talking about me behind my back, or pretending that you don't know me? Wait, never mind . . . you never did know me," Sara snapped. She turned around and stood still as she stared at me. Her eyes were so cold. She slowly approached the table.

"We worked together for nearly five years," Warrick replied.

"Sara, maybe we should just drop this right now," Sophia replied.

"No, I'm sick of them assuming that they know me. I'm sick of them thinking that I just go a little psycho every time we work on a domestic violence case," Sara replied as she stood at the end of the table staring at Warrick and me. It made chills run down my spine.

"Sara, you don't have to do this," Greg said weakly, but I was sure that he knew that Sara would do what she wanted despite his and Sophia's warnings.

"No. Nick, did you know that my mother stabbed my father to death . . . forty times . . . because he beat her? Warrick, did you know that the night my father died he hit my brother and he threatened to hit me? I bet you didn't ever imagine that I thought everyone grew up in a home where their mother was rushed to the hospital monthly for broken bones or lacerations," Sara hissed.

"Sara, please . . .," Greg said.

"No, I'm not 'that girl with the crazy mother' anymore. They are 'those ignorant people.' I have to go," Sara said as she turned around. The entire restaurant stared at her as she walked out and got into her Tahoe. I sat speechless. I never did think of that. I would have never known Sara's secrets. I would have never guessed that's why those cases became so personal.

"Griss, I should go make sure she's okay," Greg said as he waved down the waitress and asked for his breakfast and Sara's breakfast to be put in a carry-out box.

"I think this is the first time that Sara has really felt okay in a long time," Sophia replied, "I'll go with you."

"Call me if Sara needs anything," Grissom said as he watched Sophia and Greg walk away, "I trust that you won't repeat anything that you heard."

"Why didn't she tell us in the first place?" Warrick asked. I'm sure that the confusion on his face mirrored the confusion that I was felt.

"Because she doesn't know how to open up to people . . . because Sara wants to believe that she fix the world on her own . . . because I pushed her away one too many times. I put her on a pedestal different from the ones that I put you two on. I was much more critical of her than I ever was of you two," Grissom rambled as he picked through his breakfast. I had to admit that I wasn't really too interested in mine either.

"Do you think that she believed me . . . when I apologized?" I asked.

"As long as you two continue to perpetuate Catherine's new personality . . . I don't know. How is Catherine?" Grissom asked. His answer didn't put me at ease. His answer did nothing but make me feel guiltier for all that I assumed about Sara.

"She's angry . . . not too different from Sara," Warrick commented. I had to agree with that assessment. Catherine was changing; working for her wasn't what I had imagined it to be. It was much more difficult than I ever imagined.

"You should go talk to Sara," Grissom replied.

"You should talk to Catherine," Warrick said.

It took us way too long to begin to address the problems that tore us apart. I wondered if it would take just as long to fix all that was broken.


	8. Grissom's POV: Olive Branch

Grissom's POV:

She should have been home six hours ago, but her head is rested on top of a stack of case files. Her strawberry blonde hair is matted to her cheek. She's sleeping; Catherine's shift starts in six hours, but she doesn't look like she is anywhere close to going home and getting some meaningful sleep.

"Catherine, I have a couch in my office," I said as I gently squeezed her shoulder. She looked up at me confused. I'm sure that's the last thing she expected to hear come out of me. She nodded as she pulled the hair off her cheek.

"Gil, why are you being nice to me?" Catherine asked in a moment of weakness. She followed me to my office.

"Consider it my olive branch," I replied.

"I don't deserve that," Catherine replied as she sat down on the couch. In her exhaustion, she was so much more honest than I ever imagined she would be with me.

"What are we doing Catherine? When did we start to think that waging war in the lab is okay?" I asked as I pulled a blanket off a shelf in the corner of the room. I had kept these things in my office when the headaches started years ago. Before I had the operations on my ears, I was plagued by migraines that kept me confined to the couch where Catherine was resting.

"Gil, I don't know. I don't know," Catherine said as I handed her a blanket and a small pillow. "How do you do it? How do you not hate being a manager?"

"I do hate being a manager, but I care about the people that I work with. I care about them as much as Sara cares about some of her cases," I replied. Catherine cringed when I said Sara's name.

"I think I let things get out of control," Catherine said with a sigh. She rubbed her eyes causing her mascara to smudge around the corner of her eyes.

"I know you let things get out of control, but why?" I asked as I watched Catherine squirm to get comfortable on the vinyl couch.

"You wouldn't understand, Gil?"

"Catherine, sometimes I can still surprise you," I replied as I pulled my desk chair closer to the couch.

"Gil, I hate my job. I hate you for loving your job. I hate you for taking such good care of your team. I hate the way you all get along. I miss seeing Lindsey. I guess I hate a lot of things," Catherine said with a sigh.

"What can I do to help you?" I asked. I was worried about her. She looked like she was coming apart – not too differently than when Sara came apart last week.

"I want days. I want to see my daughter grow up into a young woman. I don't have either of those things right now," Catherine said softly.

"The day shift manager isn't going to give up her position, but Sophia would probably jump at the chance to manage swing. You are always more than welcome to be part of my team again, Catherine," I said after drawing in a deep breath.

"That would be like saying I can't handle this job," Catherine replied.

"Catherine, you aren't handling the job. You are walking around the lab throwing barbs at whoever is in your way," I replied.

"How is Sara doing?" Catherine asked.

"She's hell bent on proving to you and Eckley that she isn't a loose cannon. She's not exactly a big fan of yours lately," I replied.

"It wasn't her fault. Eckley only heard the part of the conversation when Sara started going off on me. I egged her on; I was a real bitch," Catherine replied as she closed her eyes a little tighter.

"Sara's no angel either. Nick's not much better lately," I commented, "If you want to play politics, be careful with your words, Catherine. It hurts them . . . it hurts me."

"I'm sorry, Gil. I'm a real bitch, huh?" Catherine said with a slight smile.

"Go to sleep. Let me know what you decide to do . . . I'll see how the day shift coordinator is fairing. If I can help you, let me know before you start telling the lab that I am no longer fit to be a manager," I said as I pushed my chair back to my desk.

"You heard about that?" Catherine asked as she quickly sat up obviously embarrassed.

"It's forgotten, Catherine. Just don't let your anger cloud your judgment," I said as gathered my things and left a sleepy Catherine on my couch.


	9. Warrick's POV: Her Story

Warrick's POV:

We came bearing chocolate soy ice-cream. Nick and I stood on Sara's door stoop trying to decide exactly how to approach her; I think out first fault was trying to approach Sara like she was evidence. We approached her so clinically in the past. I'm not sure if we ever really treated her like a friend.

"You're lucky I answered the door. Greg might have tried to take you both on at once. What the hell is that crap?" Sophia asked as she pointed to the pint of soy ice-cream in my hands.

"It's volatile. It's Sara's favor dessert," I replied as she stepped aside to let us in.

"God, that looks disgusting. They're watching CourtTV. It's not my place, but be careful with them. Greg feels betrayed because you didn't care about Sara. Nick, Sara's vulnerable . . . at least try to approach her with some semblance of care," Sophia said as we followed her into the living room where Sara and Greg were finishing their breakfasts.

"Is it too early for ice-cream?" I asked as I handed Sara the pint of the soy stuff. She tried to smile. I could tell that she had been crying. Her cheeks were puffy; there were faint black stains down her cheeks from the mascara that I never knew she wore. Greg immediately turned to us and scanned us with immediate disapproval. He moved a little closer to Sara to protect her from what he saw as the enemy. I wondered if he would have ever stood up for me like that.

"No, I guess it's not," Sara replied.

"Sara, Greg . . . I'm sorry. I'm not going to make up some excuse for my behavior. I'm sorry I stopped seeing you as a friend . . . I'm not even sure why that happened," Nick rambled. He always began to ramble when he was nervous.

"Ditto for me," I replied. I wasn't sure how to say it any better.

"I'll put the whatever the hell this foul smelling stuff is in the freezer," Sophia said breaking the silence. I wondered when Sophia became the funny one; I always assumed that Greg was the funny one. I immediately began to worry that the job had begun to harden him. I knew Sara tried to protect him from that; I hoped that he hadn't started to become like the rest of us.

"Sophia is a meat-eater," Greg commented as if we would have never guessed. Sara looked at him funny for a second before laughing. It was the joyful laugh that I never would have guessed could have come out of Sara.

"I'm sure that they would have never guessed that, Genius," Sophia said as she ushered us into Sara's living room.

"I did only miss one question on the written proficiency exam . . . thanks to my lovely ladies," Greg teased. Sara blushed and Sophia threw a pillow at him. I don't know if we were ever that close as a team. I would have never guessed that Sara and Greg would bond with Sophia as they had. I would have never guessed that Sara could be friends with a woman rumored to be dating Grissom.

We sat down on a sofa near the bay window. I looked at Sara and immediately felt like I was at a loss of words. Sophia, Greg, and Grissom had fixed what was wrong with Sara in a week; the 'old' nightshift struggled to do that for years. It made me feel inadequate.

"Do you want to hear the story?" Sara asked as she looked down at the ground. Sophia was right about Sara being vulnerable, but my grandmother always did say that secrets had a way of coming out whether or not you wanted them to. I think Nick and I weakly nodded.

"I was fourteen years old. I had gone over to my friend's house to listen her new Kinks album. I guess my father had hit the bottle early that afternoon. He had lost his job a year earlier and hadn't bothered to look for another job. His 'new' job was sitting on the couch and drinking all day," Sara said as she began to tremble slightly. Greg put his hand over hers; she looked at him . . . thankful for that little bit of support.

"My older brother still lived at home with us. I guess he made some smart-ass comment to my father about how he had a job, but my father didn't. My father hit him . . . I guess it wasn't a hit . . . it was more of a punch. When my mother found out, she totally lost it. I guess they screamed for hours before my father started beating her. When she was bleeding too badly for him to continue . . . you see my dad was smart . . . he only beat her where clothes would cover the marks . . . my father threatened to hit me until he passed out in an alcoholic coma," Sara continued.

"My mom lost it. She started stabbing him over and over. When I got home, there was still blood in the air . . . there was blood all over the walls. I remember screaming at her to stop as I called 911," Sara said. Her eyes glazed over like she was reliving every moment of that night.

"She was convicted of murder one. I hadn't talked to her until last week . . . I always start to think about her when the anniversary of his death draws near. Last week, I was ready to kill myself when Greg came over. I didn't understand why she needed to kill him until Greg took me to see her," Sara said. The tears were streaming down her face. Her story sucked the air out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe or talk. Nick turned his so we could not see his face; I was sure that he was crying for her. He felt so much for the people around him, or he felt awful for assuming that Sara was just being Sara last week.

"I'm okay now . . . I spent so long thinking my mother killed my father because she was selfish. God, do I ever feel stupid," Sara said as she wiped the tears from her face.

"Sara and I found an attorney to help Laura appeal the court decision. You know, battered woman's syndrome and self-defense," Greg said.

"Don't be so modest. Greg's older brother is going to handle's my mom's case," Sara replied. I think I smiled at her because she smiled back.

"I didn't know that you had an older brother," Nick said.

"You aren't the only one that comes from a large family," Greg said smiling. I would have never known.

"You should see that household. He has five older brothers and a little sister . . . a myriad of nieces and nephews. It's absolutely crazy," Sara said laughing.

"My parents wanted to keep going until they had a daughter," Greg said laughing.

"They could have stopped after you," Sophia teased, "He had the longest hair when he was a teenager."

"It was cool then . . . maybe it was only cool in San Francisco," Greg quipped. I was a little jealous that they knew each other so well.

"It's not as bad as your shaved head," Greg replied. I instantly snapped my head around to look at Sophia . . . trying to picture what she might look like bald.

"I was a Sinead O'Conner fan," Sophia snapped back. Sara was laughing hysterically.

"The difference is that I was a teenager and you were what . . . twenty-something?" Greg replied.

"Sidle, you better bite your tongue . . . we could tell them about the perm that wouldn't quit," Sophia teased. It only made us all laugh harder. "You're turn."

"I had an afro," I said after talking a deep sigh, " . . . because I wanted to be a member of Earth, Wind, and Fire. Nicky, make me look normal again."

"I had my tips frosted white blonde because my older sister told me that it was cool," Nick said as he blushed an extremely bright red.

We fell into the same relaxed conversation that seeming had disappeared over the last three months. I liked it. I missed it. I was happy to know that made things weren't as far gone as I had originally thought they were.


	10. Sara's POV: Comfortable Friendly

Sara's POV:

I knew her eyes were on me when that memory card came up missing. I knew Eckley wasn't thrilled that only Greg could provide an alibi. We had been processing the backyard; we didn't find anything, but it needed to be done all the same. I knew they all secretly wondered if I stole the memory card to get back at Catherine, but no one asked me directly.

It was a crazy case. It was almost too bizarre for me to handle. God knows Greg and I had a field day laughing about the size of the diapers that were brought back to the lab. Greg had joked that both he and I could easily fit in one together; we could probably get Sophia in there with us if we tried hard enough. For that, Grissom had started referring to us as the three musketeers. Grissom had commented that he couldn't remember the last time he worked on a team that was this colorful.

Life had settled down; it was the first time in years that I didn't feel inner turmoil that threatened to cause me to self-destruct. It was the first time in a long time that everyone in the lab had gotten along; some of us got along better than others, but it was still better than the preceding months.

I sat in the break room sipping the coffee that I had just made. Greg had clued me in on where he kept his stash of Blue Hawaiian. He swore both Sophia and I to secrecy. I closed my eyes as I sipped the hot liquid. It was a brief moment of sanity amongst a completely insane night. I really began to wonder who the hell found crapping in a diaper and breast-feeding a turn on. I knew I was screwed up, but I was thankful that I wasn't down right strange.

"Rough night?" Grissom asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Weird night. I heard you and Sophia got into it with Catherine tonight. Are you two okay?" I asked as I opened my eyes. Grissom smiled; he had commented yesterday that I was a very thoughtful person . . . a great addition to his team. I had waited for years to get that kind of praise out of him.

"It was just a misunderstanding. Things get crazy around here when the legends of Vegas are murdered. I heard you were questioned in regards to the missing memory card," Grissom commented.

"It's no biggie," I replied with a smile. It actually was a 'biggie,' but I knew better than to engage Eckley in another fight so soon.

"Conrad is an ass," Grissom replied.

"I'm not going to argue with that," I replied with a small laugh, "I don't know how to say this, but I'm happy that Sophia makes you happy."

"Thank you, Sara," Grissom replied as a blush spread across his face, "I'm glad that you are doing better."

"You have Greg to thank for that. So I heard something about you being Nick's 'Daddy,'" I joked. Grissom blushed a million shades of red.

"Who told you?" he said as he looked down into the bottom of his coffee cup.

"I heard it from Greg who heard it from Hodges. You know how 'good' news travels fast around here," I replied. Grissom rubbed his forehead.

"Sar, Griss," Nick said as he walked into the break room. Just the sight of him made me start to laugh. He looked at me funny, but immediately knew what I was laughing about. He flung a wadded up paper towel at me and preceded to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Who told you?" Nick asked accusingly.

"Don't tell things to Hodges if you don't want the entire lab to know, little one," I teased. My relationship with Nick had dramatically changed; it had almost reverted back to what we had the first day I came to Vegas. We teased each other unmercifully. It had gone back to that comfortable-friendly that I missed so much. The same thing had happened with Warrick. I had spent more time with them in the last week than I think I had in over a year.

"I'm going to kill him," Nick growled.

"Good thing you know how to hide a body," I replied. Grissom looked up at me and only shook his head.

"I didn't think we would see father and son together tonight," Sophia said as she walked into the room with Greg.

"Does that mean I get to call you Mommy?" Nick quipped. Grissom blushed, and Greg and I nearly fell over because we had started laughing so hard. Two weeks ago, this banter probably would have resulted in fist fights, suspensions, or screaming matches. Today, it was seemingly all in the nature of a much lighter-hearted lab.

"Whatever turns you on, kiddo," Sophia replied as she ruffled Nick's hair, "Greg, you call me Mommy and I'll kick your ass."

"Yes, ma'am," Greg replied as he poured cups of coffee for him and Sophia.

"I don't like ma'am either," Sophia replied as she took a seat next to Grissom.

"I heard Grissom call her 'princess' this morning," I offered. My comment caused Sophia to blush. Grissom only silently continued to drink his coffee.

"No, she's more of a 'queen bee,' Sar," Greg teased. Grissom looked up and smiled like he might actually consider calling Sophia that in the privacy of somewhere other than the lab.

"Hey," Catherine said as she came into the break room. I could feel the atmosphere changing the instant she walked through the door. I hadn't talked to her since the incident three weeks ago. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet. There was part of me that was still angry with her, but another part was ready to put this issue to rest.

"Hey, Nicky, is your daddy going to let you out of his sight, so you can finish signing off on the evidence you collected?" Catherine asked. She had obviously talked to Hodges . . . well, maybe almost anyone in the lab. Catherine smiled. After a long night, I hadn't expected her to be in a jovial mood. After long cases with the normal and abnormal problems, Catherine was usually nothing less than exhausted, spiteful, and angry.

"You'll have to ask his parents," Greg teased as he filled up my cup of coffee without asking me if I wanted more. Sophia laughed more than Grissom did, but I'm sure that there was some part of Grissom's overly scientific brain that was getting a kick of this.

"God," Catherine said with a smile as she shook her head, "I'll try not to send him home from work cranky. People are weird . . . weirder than you guys."

"Grissom, you buying breakfast?" I asked as I began to sip my coffee.

"If I have to," Grissom replied, "Let's go. Catherine, you should come with us. Nick, go find Warrick."

"I bet I know where to find him," Greg said.

"Mia," Nick and I replied at the same time.

"I should really get some paperwork done," Catherine said.

"It will be there tomorrow," Grissom said as he all but pulled Catherine out of her chair.

It was the first time that swing and nights were all together. It was something reminiscent of days that had faded away a little too quickly. The banter was the same; God knows everyone always ordered the same things for breakfast. It was like time reversed itself. It was something that I had missed. It was something that I needed. When I was alone with my own devices too long, I began to dwell on the childhood that I would never in a million years go back to. I needed them to keep me sane. I rarely admitted to needing people, but when Greg, Warrick, Mia, and I piled into Nick's SUV, I realized just how much I needed them. I hoped that maybe they needed me just as much.

FIN


End file.
